Chapter 34 Aurora #3
“It seems, little lupine, that your canines have elongated, giving you the most beautiful fangs I’ve ever seen. I’m having a bit of trouble containing myself every time you smile, Aurora. And when you used them to make me bleed? I could have died happy in that moment.”
“I have fangs?”
I open my mouth and run my tongue along my teeth. Sure enough, I’m met with four long, razor-sharp teeth where my human canines used to be.
“I vaguely remember you asking me to bite you, but I didn’t know why. So, you like them?”
“Very much so, little flame,” Ezra says softly, his voice caught somewhere between awe and realization.
“Between your praise and your fangs … I suppose you’ve unlocked two new kinks for me.
Quite impressive, considering my vast experience.
” It’s a confession, not a joke. He’s so fucking ridiculous. And I’ve never wanted anything more.
“You said there was another unexpected change?”
“Yes. Claiming your power triggered something else … a tattoo.”
Ezra’s touch ghosts along the base of my spine.
“A deer skull, crowned in antlers and threaded with thorny sweet briar, its tines sweeping delicately up the column of your neck. In the center, between them, there’s a sphere of flickering hellfire. It’s … striking.”
He pauses for a beat, then carefully adds, “It’s likely tied to your ability to shift. But I’m guessing, Aurora. No one wrote this part down. Or if they did, it’s buried somewhere we haven’t dug yet.
“Underborne and erevald markings are more consistent. Easier to trace. But yours? Yours feels older. Rarer.”
I blink at him. “Then why didn’t my mom have one?”
He exhales slowly. “Maybe she did. You didn’t remember Louie, either. And Ellie … she obviously knew powerful wrakhs. It’s possible someone helped her hide it.”
I swallow hard. My mom was really good at keeping secrets. Sometimes I wonder if I even knew her at all.
The thought stings, and I immediately hate myself for it.
“And the work itself?” Ezra says as he leans in closer. “I’d guess it’s Pin and Thread.”
“Who?”
“Underborne twins. Very old. Tattooists. They run a place called Stitch.”
He gives a dry little laugh, like he’s not sure whether to admire them or strangle them.
“Stitch shows up when it wants to. It’s a strange place. Vending machines. Forgotten hallways. The backs of shops no one remembers entering. It finds who it needs, then disappears.”
The name tickles something in the back of my mind.
Stitch.
A crooked sign. A door that shouldn’t have been there.
But the thought slips away before I can grab it.
“They’ve likely been watching your bloodline since Lucifer and Lilith’s daughter came to Earth,” Ezra adds. “They only mark those with lineage worth remembering. And yours?”
His knuckles run slowly down my arm.
“Yours is unforgettable.” His brow furrows slightly. “Does this displease you?”
I’ve thought about getting a tattoo before, but the pain always kept me away—and I’ve always been too chickenshit to commit.
Now I’ve got a massive back piece courtesy of ancient underborne twins who apparently don’t believe in consent forms or subtlety … and no idea how to explain it to Eve. Or my dad.
“No. It doesn’t displease me, Ezra. I’m just trying to figure out how the hell I’m going to explain this to anyone. Can you use my phone to take a picture? I’ll look after the mirror.”
“Of course, Aurora. Whatever you wish.”
I lean forward, and Ezra snaps a quick picture before lying down and pulling me tight against him once more.
“I licked the blood of that evil guy off you. Didn’t I?”
The memory stands out. Probably because it happened before everything changed.
“You did, little goddess. And you liked it. A lot. Does that bother you?”
“I know it should. But it doesn’t. It tasted so … good.” I pause, tilting my head as the thought clicks into place. “But yours didn’t taste like that when I cut you open.”
I go quiet, the question hanging in the space between us.
“Besides, after what happened at The Cardinal the other night, enjoying the taste of blood isn’t my biggest concern.”
“What happened at The Cardinal, Aurora?” Ezra’s entire body tenses while he waits for my answer.
“When I went out with Eve and Thane, some pervert cornered me, and I may have used my magic to persuade him to confess, chop his dick off, then kill himself.”
I shoot Ezra a wide whoops grin, but when I meet his gaze, there’s no humor. There’s just lust, need, and the glint of something dark and dangerous.
Ezra freezes, then groans, as he presses a hand to his cock through the sheets.
“Je?í?i Kriste, Aurora.” He exhales sharply, dragging his teeth over his bottom lip. His fingers tighten in the fabric, barely holding himself back.
“That’s so hot it makes my balls ache.”
I bite back a grin. I’ve never seen him this undone. And I fucking love it.
“I’ll control myself. You look exhausted.” He breathes in slowly, reining himself in. “As for the blood, it’s just a hunch, but I think the blood of evil humans will taste good to you. The rest won’t.”
Another pause. His eyes narrow, something shifting behind him.
“That might be tied to the thread magic Iain mentioned. You’re not just tasting blood. You’re tasting what they are.”
He leans in, eyes gleaming. “Much like me.”
Ezra’s mouth finds mine and kisses me so deeply my head spins and my pulse roars in my ears.
“Have you decided if you want to see yourself, Aurora? It looks like your hellfire is fading, and I’m afraid you might lose your chance.”
Ezra reaches toward the nightstand and grabs the mirror.
“I’m ready.”
I’m so not ready.
With my face buried in Ezra’s chest, I catch sight of another tattoo—a red-winged blackbird perched among tall cattails, its tiny eyes sharp and still.
He taps my shoulder, and I turn my head to look in the mirror he holds in front of us.
My reflection makes my heart briefly beat out of rhythm and my mouth dry.
I’m … beautiful.
I look like a goddamn reckoning.
Still me. Just … finally unleashed.
I was so afraid this would change me.
And except for the screaming cunt currently squatting in my consciousness, and our slight misunderstanding, I’m still totally and utterly me.
After I passed out from my earlier … exertions, I came face to face with the thing in my head.
She looks like me. But wrong. Not monstrous, just … off.
It feels like someone tried to print me out, but the machine jammed halfway through. Her edges are smeared, and her colors are too sharp in some places and bleeding in others.
Her form flickers, constantly shifting, never quite settling. She’s still deciding who she wants to be, or maybe trying to remind me who I really am.
“I am the Empress of Ashes,” she told me, her voice a chorus of echoes, “and I have waited long enough.”
Pretty pompous words from what’s basically a cosmic brain tick with delusions of grandeur.
“You are not ready,” she spat at me. “You don’t even know what you are.”
Then tell me, skank.
She didn’t. Not in words, at least. But I felt it.
A spark—no, my lineage—passing through generations, waiting, simmering, until something forced it awake. Until someone stole what should never be moved.
“The Vermilion Maw is gone,” she whispered. My stomach dropped like someone kicked me off the Cathedral of Learning and didn’t bother to watch me fall.
Cool. Great. The Vermilion fucking Maw. Totally normal thing to wake up knowing about. And like, who gives a shit if someone moved it?
I want to laugh. I want to pretend I don’t care.
But I do. I care so much it makes my stomach twist.
And when she found out I claimed my power by fucking an ancient shadow monster of questionable origin? Well, judging by how loud she shrieked inside my head, I’d say she wasn’t thrilled about it.
She was furious, wild-eyed and spitting fire. And honestly? Kind of a bitch about it.
But when she finally saw Ezra, she swooned.
Actually swooned.
She took one look and went from wrathful godling to starry-eyed fangirl, practically begging me to wake him up.
She’s young, wild, and confused.
But Emme’s also something else.
Something more.
Something I don’t fully understand.
She isn’t separate from me.
I have magic with or without her.
But if we fuse … if I stop fighting her …
We’ll be unstoppable.
How do I know this?
Fuck if I know.
Apparently, I just … know things now.
Like the fact that the Vermilion Maw has been moved and that’s really bad.
Like end-of-the-world, somebody-just-cut-the-wrong-wire bad.
Or that Emme only wakes up when there’s nothing left between us and the end.
Or that when Ezra swears in languages I’ve never studied, I still understand every single word.
Cool.
Cool, cool, cool.
Then Ezra speaks, and my thoughts suddenly forget how to exist.
“See?” Ezra’s voice pulls me back. “I told you, Aurora. You’re different. You’re a queen, a goddess … everything.”
Slowly, I reach a hand to my head and run my fingers along the smooth, metallic antlers. They’re cold, despite the hellfire surrounding us, and the copper gleams in the dimming light.
The scent of sweet briar tickles my nose when I move my hand to my throat to trace the tattoo that twists up the sides of my neck and ends just under my ears and chin.
Finally, I bring the pad of my thumb to one of my fangs and accidentally nick my skin.
In a strange sort of way, I understand why Ezra likes them so much.
Finally, I reach for my phone, unlock it, and pull up my photo gallery.
Ezra wasn’t kidding. The tattoo is massive and so beautifully detailed it causes something deep in my chest to ache.
Even Emme’s mood shifts to something softer while I gaze at the little screen.
“Absolutely stunning,” Ezra purrs, planting a soft kiss on my cheek.
I watch in the mirror as my magical form disappears. When the hellfire fades, something colder settles in its place.
The shadows start to retreat. Some slither into the dark, while others hesitate, dragging along my skin, reluctant to let go.
Ezra’s seen me as a goddess.